


Out of Mind

by grimorie



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Bodyswap, Gen, Pre-Root/Sam Shaw - Freeform, Psychological Drama, Team as Family, friendships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 03:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2135127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimorie/pseuds/grimorie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long ago, Harold told Shaw, 'The world's become a very strange place.'  </p><p>As Team Machine and Decima race to find an unknown powerful artefact, Shaw's about to find out how strange the world has truly become and how there is some truth to the old proverb: 'Let sleeping dogs lie.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adreadfulidea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreadfulidea/gifts).



> Written for [adreadfulidea](http://adreadfulidea.tumblr.com)'s Bodyswap AU prompt.
> 
> Thanks to [lookninjas](http://lookninjas.tumblr.com) and [tristianmakhai](http://tristianmakhai.tumblr.com) for looking this part over! But all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> **Disclaimer** : I don't own the characters, I'm just borrowing Jonathan Nolan and Greg Plageman's sandbox.

The warehouse was dusty. It had crates stacked high, old and forgotten. It sat there waiting for someone to arrive.

And now, someone did, several someones. Boots and patent leather shoes hit the ground, and the night air was punctuated with shouting and muffled gunfire.

And, at the very center of it all, it waited.

* * *

Shaw and John have been shadowing the Decima agents for hours, no mean feat considering the resources the Decima team have on hand. Shaw and John had to pull every trick in the book just to keep Decima from noticing them. There were several points when a Decima agent nearly made them but Root's timely interceptions kept them invisible.

But really it was just a matter of time and it seemed like they used the last of their luck because as they creeped inside the warehouse Root suddenly shouted: " _Duck!_ "

A rain of bullets and suppressed fire riddled the wall where Shaw and John used to be. The trigger team eager to finish off what they started was frustrated when they caught up and found the three of them had split up.

Root ran the other direction, John took out every Decima agent he could lay his hand on and Shaw began running in order to get to higher ground.

Shaw wasn't really surprised Decima finally grew wise to them, getting caught was inevitable (Harold's current new favorite word. Harold once called Shaw pessimistic but recently he had Shaw beat in that area, and Harold's pessimistic mindset was beginning to cross into the border of nihilistic) Decima had Samaritan, just like they had the Machine, and as Root liked to remind them, both teams played with the same deck of cards.

They received the intel early that week, straight from the Machine from Harold's end, and from Root. The Machine's gone more cryptic, and now it seemed like it wanted Harold and Root to work more closely together. Harold got the code, Root was given the key.

And all it mentioned was Greer was on a look out for a cube and was putting all of Decima's considerable resource in search of it.

It was tough going to search for the cube in between saving Numbers and other people.

"Why don't we let them find the location for us?" Shaw had asked.

Harold was about to dismiss the idea but he paused, then look to John, then John looked at her thoughtfully.

Root, who was situated on one of the tables, took a pear from the table. "Let them run like headless chickens, then we'll pick it up from them."

"Then that's what we'll do," Harold said with a nod.

" _I want everyone to take great care,_ " Harold's voice broke into Shaw's thoughts, " _According to the records the warehouse was last used in 1955, no one bothered to install surveillance cameras. I can't help any of you._ "

" _That's okay, Harold,_ " Shaw heard John whisper, " _Just means Decima's just as blind._ "

"Time to put those rusty hunting skills to work, John," Shaw said.

" _I was mostly referring to Miss Groves,_ " Harold answered.

" _Are you worried about me, Harold? I think that's a big step in our relationship._ "

Shaw didn't hear Harold's response as she ducked several bullets whizzing past her as she rose, she spotted the Decima guys gathered around a narrow space, packed together like sardines. She picked up speed and rammed into one agent. He fell back on to his friends and they all went down Shaw brought up her gun and shot them.

She ran the opposite direction, disappearing into stacks, trying to find a stable foot hold.

" _No sign of the cube_ ," John reported in her ear. " _Just lots and lots of Decima teams._ "

Shaw finally found a good set of stacks to use for climbing but there was a lone Decima agent standing guard and his back was to her. Shaw walked silently to his position and just as he turned around. Shaw drove her elbow into his ribs and smashed her Nano straight into his temple. She smashed it again against the back of his head until he fell like a tree. Shaw caught the submachine gun from the Decima guy's hold and pulled all the magazines she could find from him.

" _Shaw?_ "

Shaw pulled herself up on to one of the crates before answering, "I heard you. I'm going high," she told him and because someone needed to ask the question: "How do we know whatever Decima's looking for is here in the first place?"

" _It's here._ " Root said, sounding breathless. Shaw heard the sounds of gunfire. " _Every Decima agent in New York were directed to this place, so it has to be here._ "

"And if these guys are just here to draw us away from the _real_ location of this cube?" Shaw asked, pulling herself up onto another crate. Because if she can't locate the damned thing on the ground, better to see things from way up high.

" _Greer is here_ ," John answered for Root. " _If there's one thing that'll make me believe the thing is here, it'll be because Greer is around._ "

"Do we even know why Greer wants this thing?"

" _Whatever it is, Miss Shaw, if it's something that would help Decima, I believe it prudent if we try any means to keep the cube away from Mr. Greer._ "

In other words, because Decima wanted it, _they_ wanted it too. That sounded good to Shaw, after all, Decima had far more toys than they needed.

" _Shaw, what do you see?_ " Root asked. Shaw looked through her scope and... wait.

"There's something five to ten meters north of you." Shaw saw other Decima also move that direction. "Four bogeys on the way. I'll lay covering fire."

" _I'm headed that way too_ ," John said.

Shaw moved closer, the submachine gun reminded Shaw a little bit of her own compact submachine gun, it even had suppressors. Shaw tracked Root before she fixed her line of sight to the avenues leading to the object, taking note that two of the four Decima agents Shaw aimed and squeezed the trigger.

The burst of fire hit true true, hitting one in the shoulder, he went down heavily into his partner. On the other side of the stacks John caught up with the other two agents launching into a running tackle that lifted the Decima operatives off their feet and straight into a crate.

John was too close to the Decima operatives for Shaw to pick them off. She turned her sight back to Root and cursed. There were two more on the way.

"Root, move it, two more Tangos on your eleven."

Shaw spotted a minute nod of head. Shaw slung the submachine gun on her shoulder and jumped down from her perch.

She was a few feet from where the cube was. If she reached it in time, they could execute their extraction, John had done his job clearing the south side of the warehouse and even if Decima were like ants, Greer's forces were still human and not as unlimited as he would like.

Shaw dropped to the floor and was instantly blindsided by what seemed like a mack truck ramming into her. Shaw cried out as she hit the metal shelf, felt the jolt in her ribs. She lifted her head just in time to see a gun barrel slam into her skull.

She moved her head to the side and the barrel slammed into the metal where her head used to be. Shaw kicked up a leg, felt the flesh. Her attacker let out a grunt, and was about to recover when Shaw brought up her backup piece and shot him. He went down with a cry and Shaw went up fast, kicking away his weapon and running towards the cube like it was the last lap to the finish line.

And there it was, at the center, sitting pretty for all to see. Shaw briefly wondered why the hell it was set up like that. At the other end, Shaw saw Root running towards it but the two Decima agents were gaining on Root.

Shaw sped up, felt her lungs burn and a painful hitch in her side, bruised ribs were a bitch but that's something Shaw was going to worry about later.

She was getting close enough to see the cube in detail, it was made of glass and it had a hazy dull silver shine that made the hairs at the back of Shaw's neck stand. Behind her, Shaw heard the sounds of fighting and knew John had her back. All she needs to do was reach the cube, she stretched her arm out and from the other side, Shaw saw Root do the same.

Shaw's fingers brushed against the cube, the cold glass sent a frisson of electricity up her arm and then it did the damndnest thing-- it started to glow.

Shaw had a half second to notice, eyes widening in surprise, at the other end of the cube Shaw met Root's eyes.

The cube started glowing brighter and it pulsed. Shaw was about to withdraw her hand away when the sound of thunderclap roared through her ears and then, nothing.

* * *

_The weight of the leather seat dug into her back, crushing her down. She couldn't move even if she wanted to. Something had gone wrong. It was dark and all she heard was crackling. Then there was a light shining in her eyes, she couldn't see. She had to blink._

_"I'm coming to you, kid--"_

Shaw woke, inhaling deeply. Her heart was racing and she couldn't figure out why. The last thing she remembered, the last thing was the cube and Decima.

Shaw sat up, fast expecting a twinge from her side, from where the hulking Decima rammed her, the internal flinch vanished when she realized there was no pain there but there was a persistent, tweaking kind of pain on her left shoulder.

Her legs felt like jello and her heart, thankfully was slowing down but Shaw didn't like how it felt, like it wanted to beat itself out of her chest.

After the quick mental inventory of her aches and pains she looked around and was relieved to find that they were in the new safehouse. It wasn't as luxurious as the last but it'd do...

And Harold, staring at her with something like trepidation. Staring at her for a long while, like he didn't know what she would do. Honestly, Shaw felt they were past this phase.

Her head felt different, heavy and there was a low buzz in her ear.

"You're not being creepy at all," Shaw commented. Harold moved then, since they all came back together there's been a certain kind of carefulness to Harold. "What the hell was that? Was that some kind of trap? A flash bang?"

She stopped talking, startled at the sound of her own voice, the cube must have done more damage than she thought.

Shaw tried to push off from the bed and stand but Harold put up a hand. "I must insist, try not to move."

There was a hum in her ear and Shaw tried to shake it off. "I'm fine, Finch. What happened to the cube? Was it a decoy or something?"

Her 'I told you so' was on the tip of her tongue.

"Mr. Reese's first guess was it was some sort of flash bang grenade."

"And was it?"

Harold adjusted his glasses, "It didn't act like any grenade he's come across. There was no shrapnel anywhere. None on you, nor on Miss Shaw."

Shaw looked at Harold and frowned.

"So where's the cube?"

"We don't have it," Harold said he had taken several steps back, "Fortunately, it seems like Decima doesn't have it either."

Shaw waited, Harold had a flair for the dramatic, and she stopped trying to beat him to it because it only made him annoyed. Frankly, its not worth the drama to wait a few more seconds.

"The cube vanished."

"I'm sorry, for a second I thought I heard you say 'the cube vanished'." There it was again, her voice sounded different, higher and thinner. There was a brief crackle in her ear and it echoed down her spine like a tickle. Shaw jerked her shoulder up and down to get rid of the tension.

"You heard me the first time, Miss Groves."

Shaw stared at Harold. "Did you hit your head?"

Harold frowned, "I-- no, I did not hit my head."

"Then why are you calling me by Root's name?"

Harold blinked, twice, took another step back and his face and demeanor had turned cool. "What are you doing?"

There was another crackle and a buzzing in her ears, like someone put an old stereo up close to another. Shaw clenched her hand into fists, she needed a doctor to check out the ear.

"You might be suffering some sort of concussion," Harold said, but it sounded like he was convincing himself more than he was conveying this fact to Shaw.

"Maybe." Shaw conceded, because everything around her felt so different and it wasn't something she could pin down.

"Unfortunately, Miss Shaw is still unconscious---"

"Okay, stop. What are _you_ playing at?"

Harold blinked at her. "Why do you think I'm playing?"

"The name game, Finch." He looked at her with some caution and it was starting to piss Shaw off. "You called _me_ by Root's name, and you're calling somebody else by _my_ name."

"I've always called you Miss Groves."

"No," a new voice spoke up. Shaw snapped her head to the direction of her voice. Literally, her own voice from across the fucking room. "You've always called her, 'Miss Shaw.' You were always so serious with names, Harold."

Shaw's first thought was: ' _Fuck me, I really_ am _short._ ' Especially beside Reese who looked like a fucking giant. Shaw's second thought was: the bandage on the shoulder was shoddily done.

The third, most pressing thought was: ' _Fuck, no._ '

"Miss Shaw?" Harold said, puzzled.

"Try again, Harry."

"Harold," John said. He looked like someone was playing a cosmic joke on him. Shaw knew how he felt. "Shaw says she's Root."

And the annoying, buzzing in her ear finally made sense.

"No." Shaw said, out loud. Maybe too loud because everyone was looking at her. But Shaw was having none of it because fuck this noise hard.

Harold was looking at her weirdly and with a light of understanding in his eyes. "Miss... Shaw?"

"Nope."

"No--?"

Then she pushed Harold's arm away, stood up and ignored the slightly woozy feeling in her head and the way her limbs felt like it was disconnected from her body then pushed past John and Root. It was more effort than she would put and Shaw could feel the strain of simply pushing her way past John and Root in her body.

No, that sounded weird even in her head. They followed her until the main room and she began to pace.

Bear was lying down on the rug at the center of the room and he looked at her in puzzlement. Shaw reached out, he tilted his head at her but then he stood up and went to her. It seemed to Shaw that Bear felt anxious and so Shaw went down to her knees and began to scratch behind his ears.

Shaw felt the weight of their stares, tickling the spot between her shoulder blades. She didn't look up but she did address the room at large, "Everyone can stop staring now and tell me what the hell is going on, because I really don't want to consider what _I_ think is going on. So someone talk."

"I'm afraid, its exactly what you think, Shaw." Her own voice told her and Shaw looked up and saw her own damned face staring back at her with an expression that shouldn't even be there.

But Shaw also noticed the way Root cradled her side and knew Root must be feeling the bruised ribs. She'll have to check on that.

Then she looked to Harold, "You know, I can accept a lot of things. I can take government conspiracies, I can take the massive surveillance systems becoming intelligent enough to somehow achieve singularity. But this thing? I'm drawing a line at _this_."

"Seems a bit impossible to ignore that you and Miss Groves, have for all intents and purposes---"

"Exchanged bodies?" Shaw finished for him, she stood up from Bear. She pointed at where Root occupied her body. "Don't even say anything."

"I was just going to agree with you," Shaw turned to glare at her own body. Because Shaw _knew_ that low voiced burr.

Root turned up the corners of her mouth. There was that sound of static in her ear and Shaw ignored it.

"You're both not just pulling our leg, right?" John asked.

"Do I look like I'm joking, John?" Shaw asked.

John shrugged. "I don't know, Shaw, you're inhabiting Root's body. I can't really tell."

Shaw narrowed her eyes at John. "I will hit you right now."

John turned to Harold. "She's Shaw."

"This should be impossible," Harold said.

"And yet," Root said then took a sit on one of the chairs, tapping on the table. Shaw looked out the window and noted the sunlight.

"How long have we been out?"

"Three hours." John told her, he leaned on a shelf and crossed his arms.

"Any movements from Decima's end?"

"You tell us, Miss Shaw," Harold said then gestured to her. "You _are_ occupying Miss Groves' body."

As if on cue, the buzzing static in her ear sounded but there was nothing. "Well, its not talking to me."

"Are you listening?" Root asked.

Shaw let her look speak for her.

"You know," Root said, in a disturbed tone, "that look is not as cute coming from my face."

"I can't even begin to explain this," Shaw heard Harold mutter, he fell back on his chair.

"So, what, the cube's magic?" John asked. "Because from where I'm standing it seems like magic."

"I really love how Lurch here contributes." Root said, "So simple and yet so insightful!"

John threw Root an annoyed look.

"You know, John," Shaw began conversationally as she moved to a better place, nearer to Bear. Bear looked between her and Root. Root had the advantage of being in her body and she could tell Bear wanted to get near her body. But Shaw petted his head and he remained in place. "Now that Root's in my body, she can take a hit better."

John seemed to brighten up.

But Harold stepped in. "There will be no hitting anyone."

"Not even just a little?" John asked.

Harold moved his focus to Root. "Miss Groves, are you saying that the reason you and Miss Shaw, swapped bodies is because of 'magic'?"

"Can you think of any technology that's capable of doing this?"

"I thought you said you didn't believe in magic," Harold said with a raised eyebrow. There was something in the tone of Harold's voice, a story in the phrase.

It was in the way Root arranged her face into a wry smile. "Things have evolved Harold, and you know what they say: 'when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.'" Root gestured between them. "I would say this is impossible, and yet here we are."

"So it _is_ magic," John said.

Shaw stood up again. She couldn't seem to settle into a position and the white noise in her ear was getting irritating.

There was a beep, several high pitched beeps. Shaw tried to listen but the words came out garbled or something straight out of a [Number's Station](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8lNFfRR73iU&list=PL28C2E5D2113056DA&index=3).

" _Yankee. Hotel. Foxtrot. Yankee. Hotel. Foxtrot. Yankee. Hotel. Foxtrot._ " Again and again and again.

"Shaw?"

"What?" She asked, and noticed everyone staring at her. Again. It was getting on her nerves.

"Is She speaking to you right now?" Root asked, leaning forward.

"Its talking garbage," she answered.

"Maybe you're not listening correctly?" Harold asked.

"No, its talking garbage," she said, then turned to face Root, who was standing now. "Its just repeating words from a Numbers station: Yankee. Hotel. Foxtrot. Yankee Hotel Foxtreet. Go on, tell me if that's useful."

Root frowned, creasing the forehead on Shaw's face.

Shaw closed her eyes, felt a headache creep in then the tone cues of the Machine changed, she snapped her fingers. "This is new, take this down: North. 60.707891, West. W 151.262646."

"Coordinates," John murmured.

Harold typed the coordinates directly into the computer and blinked. "Nikiski, Alaska?

"What's in Nikiski?"

Harold turned to her. She returned his look with a raised eyebrow. "Hey if you wanna know, I'm not the person to ask, that's all the Machine's giving."

"That's where the cube must have surfaced," Root answered.

Shaw tuned out the Machine as it started its incessant static-y white noise with occasional burst of sound and messages right out of a Numbers station.

"And then what? We touch the cube and we can get back to our original meat suit?" Shaw demanded, "Or is it going to fuck us up some more?"

This was getting to her, Shaw knew but it was like she had an excess energy to burn and nowhere to put it. Something soft nosed her hand and she looked down and saw Bear look at her. She placed her hand over his head.

"I've chartered a private jet to take us to Kenai, Alaska, we'll leave in an hour." Harold announced, he had moved to his computers. Shaw didn't even notice, too engrossed at petting Bear's head, and the Machine whispering constantly, words without meaning nor sense.

"Great," she said, since she supposed they expected her to answer. Again, she noticed John watching her and it was really getting to her in a way Shaw didn't appreciate.

"Harold, where's your extra laptop?"

Shaw looked at her body, the one occupied by Root, slouched on the chair, still tapping to a beat only she could hear.

"Why do you need a laptop?" John asked, sounding suspicious. Shaw took that opportunity to take a corner and slide down to the floor.

It was weird moving inside a body this lanky. It was like all legs and knees, Bear followed her and laid down on her feet.

"Because I want to bring down the whole internet with a virus," Root said in Shaw's own voice.

Shaw frowned at the tone, it was an almost perfect imitation of how Shaw usually sounded.

"I'm bored, okay?" Root finally snapped. "There's nothing to occupy my head."

"Its on the top drawer, third from the left," Harold said, speaking up. "There will be no using the internet, Miss Groves."

"Harold." Root said in mocking tones, "Afraid I'll hack into some place I shouldn't?"

It was weird hearing, Shaw thought, hearing her own voice come from someone else.

"I doubt there is anyplace left in the internet you haven't hacked," Harold replied, drily.

"I suppose you would know, Harry." Root's drawl was baiting but her tone didn't quite achieve what she was aiming for.

" _Zero. Zero. Zero. Alpha. Zero. Zero. Zero. Alpha._ " The Machine murmured. " _Zero. Zero. Zero. Alpha._ "

Shaw buried the side of her head into Bear's soft fur.

This was gonna be a long day.


End file.
